I am not ashamed to concede: I love “Survivor” and have from Day 1 of Season 1.

It is the only reality television show I watch … voluntarily.  And in 20 seasons going back some 10 years,  I doubt I’ve missed more than two or three episodes.

Some have suggested the show is tired. Worn. Predictable. My take on that is … “maybe.” But even if it is, so what? I still love it. I am fixated by the interpersonal relationships and the constant struggles, both mental and physical, and all the strategy involved.

But even those who though the show has overstayed its welcome … did not take into account the appearance of an evil genius … Survivor’s all-time Prince of Darkness … the conniving and compelling and possibly sociopathic … Russell Hantz.

This guy slays me.

Survivor is a game that rewards devious cutthroats. But most of them, over the years, have been silent assassins. Who stay under the radar until betraying someone (several someones) at some critical juncture when it is too late to take revenge.

Russell Hantz broke the rules. He announced, off camera, in the first episode of Season 19 … that he was the greatest thing in the show’s history, that everyone around him was an idiot, that he could and would manipulate them all. (Here is video of Russell talking himself up.)

No one had ever done that. It was shocking, in the Survivor world. No one that arrogant could possibly succeed. It couldn’t be done. He would annoy too many people and they would vote him off just because they couldn’t stand him.

But Russell backed up his bombast.

In Season 19, he managed to hide his true nature just long enough to survive the early going, when the socially challenged generally are banished … and then just seized the game by the throat. Off camera, he told us, week after week, how he was the puppeteer and he would make the others, marionettes all, dance — and he did. It was remarkable.

Russell also played some mind games we hadn’t seen before. He emptied water bottles. He burned socks. He hid tools. Just to mess with people’s heads. Make them wonder who was doing this. And why. To distract them. Discombobulate them. And that worked, too.

He generated violent opinions among viewers. Some loved him. Like me. Many more loathed him and wanted his arrogant, smirking, gap-toothed mug gone … last week.

But Russell Hantz was, in fact, so good at Survivor,  he just kept trucking, and Survivor remained among the top-rated shows on television.

Last season, he found immunity idols without clues. That had never been done before. No one had ever thought of doing it. That saved him a time or three. He was never a physical threat; he is short and stocky and not much of an athlete. But no one, ever, played the game with a more gut-level understanding of how to manipulate the people around him.

It was as if he was born to play this game. As if his life would not have been complete (even though he is married and has four children)  if Survivor hadn’t happen.

He got to the final of last season … he clearly deserved  to win. He had played the game like no one before him. But the jury (others who had been voted out) had seen just enough of the real Russell (the ones we knew from the off-camera moments) to prefer a bland, nondescript woman whose name I already have forgotten, and she got the $1 million first prize.

Russell Hantz was destroyed. He wanted that prize. Not the $1 million for winning … but the acknowledgment that he was better at this than everyone else.

So, Season 20. Survivor producers decided to mark the round number with a Heroes vs. Villains format — 10 putative heroes from seasons past, vs. a group of 10 villains. And I am convinced they did this because they wanted another season of Russell Hantz, who clearly fit the villain role to a T.

And here we are, halfway through Season 20, and Russell is in the final 10 contestants. And I am still watching.

A huge factor in his favor? This season was taped before Season 19 aired. If the people playing now had seen him in Season 19, they would have voted him out at the first opportunity just on general principle. Like, killing the snake in the campground before worrying about anything else.

Anyway, Russell has had another great season, even though it absolutely has been more difficult, with experienced players around. Some of them playing the game for the third time.

About a month ago, Russell looked like toast. He led a three-person alliance. His arch-rival, Boston Rob, led a six-person alliance. Boston Rob is a player of no small accomplishment. Perhaps the best in the history of the show. Until Russell Hantz.

Boston Rob decided Russell had to go. And it looked as if he could make it happen. He had the votes. Russell somehow had allowed it to happen.

But then came one of the most brilliant (if not the most brilliant) ploys in the history of the show, which must cover more than 300 episodes now.

Follow me, if you can. This is complicated. Which is what makes it so beautiful.

Nine people involved. Boston Rob leading a group of six. Russell in his group of three. Rob’s group is fairly solid and united by their dislike (or loathing) of Russell. Russell’s chance of breaking away two of Boston Rob’s six … not good. Particularly because Russell has marginal interpersonal skills.

However … Russell found an immunity idol. And he leveraged that into his survival. Amazingly. Because Boston Rob and his crew knew he had it.

The immunity idol works like this: If you play it, after the group has voted for whom it wants to banish … any votes cast for the player who has played the immunity idol are disregarded.

Thus, Boston Rob couldn’t risk having his whole group vote for Russell, because if they did and he played the idol, whoever Russell’s group voted for … would be gone. Follow?

But BR is a clever guy himself. And he devised what appeared to be a foolproof system.

He instructed his six to split their votes: three voting for Russell, three voting for Russell’s ally, Parvati.

Boston Rob assumed Russell would play the idol, but that would be fine because 1) it would take the idol out of the game and 2) when the nine people re-voted to break the tie, they then could vote out Russell. See? Very clever.

But Russell anticipated this move.  And he came up with a scheme — a long-shot scheme but an ingenious one — to combat it.

He would give the idol to his ally, Parvati … and then slip a bit of information into the ear of a mentally soft member of the Boston Rob alliance … someone who really didn’t like Pavarti.

Just before the vote, Russell managed to lure that one guy, Tyson, away from the majority group (which should have freaked out everyone, but Boston Rob’s plan looked foolproof) … and Russell told Tyson about how he really liked Pavarti, but he knew she was going home because he would play the idol. He added, as I recall, that he himself would vote for her. Despite his liking her. Boo-hoo. That’s how it is.

Those couple of sentences turned the game.

Tyson, feeling as if Pavarti were doomed (because Russell told him), and not liking her, and deciding that the 3-3 voting split was moot … decided to vote for Pavarti. Because she was already a goner, and he wanted to pile on.

But …

They get to the vote. The usual yakking goes on. Boston Rob is sure he is about to get rid of Russell. His group is fat and sassy. He has been talking tough, off camera, about how Russell “was playing against the varsity now.” No way the little troll survives.

Then comes the vote.

Before the votes are revealed,  the host asks if anyone wants to play an immunity idol. And Russell does, giving it to Parvati … who promptly plays the immunity, handing it over to the host, Jeff Probst.

Russell had just rolled the dice. If his ploy to peel off that one person from the 3-3 voting strategy doesn’t work … he is gone. It is a massive gamble.

And he won it.

Russell’s three all voted for Tyson. Boston Rob’s six all voted just as instructed by Boston Rob … except for Tyson. Who, thinking Pavarti was going, and not liking her — and not realizing he had just been conned by the greatest player in the history of the greatest reality TV show … voted for Pavarti.

Thus, the vote tally is … 4 for Pavarti (which are thrown out, because she has played the idol Russell gave her), 3 for Tyson and 2 for Russell.

Tyson is gone.

Boston Rob looked as if he had been gut-shot by his best friend. Flabbergasted. Astonished. In real pain.  An event he had never anticipated had just blown up in his face. You could see his mind churning. “What had gone wrong?!? How did this happen?”

One of the great moments in TV history. I was beside myself with glee and admiration for the little weasel who had pulled this off.

The next week, two members of Rob’s alliance abandoned him, and joined Russell (maybe out of sheer admiration or fear of his game-playing skill), and they voted out Boston Rob — who had never recovered from the implosion of his seemingly perfect plan, the week before.

Russell is among the final 10. He may not get to the end of this one, because people know he’s a manipulative little conman. He no longer is able to keep his boasting to off-camera situations. It will catch up to him. Maybe even tomorrow which is why I am writing this now.

But he already has proved himself a genius at this show. Even if he doesn’t manage another amazing escape or two he already has made history by telling the viewers right up front what he is going to do … and then doing it.

He seems to be borderline crazy. Paranoid, vengeful, maybe the kind of guy who likes to step on ants. But man, can he play this game. I love watching the guy. I’d love to talk to him about this season and last … but I’m not sure he can converse like a regular person.

So I will settle for watching him operate. Machiavelli’s prince had nothing on Russell Hantz. And Russell would tell you that … if he knew about the Prince. Or Machiavelli.